


Empty Chairs, Empty Tables

by Kailene



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Fix-it, Episode: s03e20 No-Go + High-Voltage + Rescue, Family Feels, Gen, Jack-Centric, Mentioned Jack Dalton (MacGyver TV 2015), Missing Scene, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:00:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22428241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kailene/pseuds/Kailene
Summary: Jack's not dead; he's just not there. Mac knows this, but sometimes the distinction blurs. Jack's not there because he's somewhere else, in harm's way, and he left Mac behind. In the heat of a mission, it's easier to put that thought aside, but after, when they're all together like this, there's an empty chair in their circle. And the thoughts-the worry, the hurt, yes, even the guilt-returns, and Mac just needs to know why.
Comments: 22
Kudos: 41





	Empty Chairs, Empty Tables

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note #1: The reporter’s newscast and first lines from Matty and James, are taken directly from season 3, episode 20, “No-Go + High-Voltage + Rescue” and are the property of the writers of MacGyver and CBS Television. 
> 
> Author’s Note #2: I am assigning Jack the rank of Master Sergeant. In the episode “Mac + Jack”, Colonel Martinez addresses Jack as “Sergeant.” In “Bravo Lead + Friendship + Loyalty” Worthy is Bravo 1, Deacon is Bravo 2 but it’s obvious that Jack is in charge of the Unit. In doing research, numerous sights have stated that each Delta team is led by either a Sergeant Major or Master Sergeant. Considering he was addressed as a ‘sergeant” in the “Mac + Jack” flashback and not sergeant major (a higher rank), I put his rank as Master Sergeant. 
> 
> Author’s Note #3: Quite a few months ago I reached out to another writer, looking to bounce some ideas around for this fic. One of their suggestions, the use of a “check mark,” which will be revealed towards the end, I grabbed a hold of and used. I unfortunately can neither remember who I chatted with, nor find the conversation thread. But to whoever that was, I want to extend a Thank You for your help and ideas. I loved it. 
> 
> Author’s Note #4: On a final note, I have to send a huge Thank You out to impossiblepluto for the read through and all support and encouragement, and to RiatheMai, for the incredible summary and for always taking my words and making them better.

WORD KEY: 

CI – Criminal Informant  
HVT – High Value Target  
OP – Military Operation   
BWC – Body Worn Camera; most often worn on the top or side of the helmet, or attached to the soldier’s tactical vest   
Five Eyes – (FVEY) Intelligence alliance comprising of Australia, Canada, New Zealand, the United Kingdom, and the United States. Part of the UKUSA Agreement, treaty for joint cooperation in signals intelligence. 

~~~~MacGyver2016 ~~~~

_“Tears of joy today when nearly a dozen missing young travelers were reunited with their families after being rescued from an overseas abduction ring. Now who exactly found them and brought them home remains unknown at this time.”_

“And it gets better,” Matty says as she picks up the television remote from the small wooden coffee table in front of her and turns the volume down on the breaking news story currently being broadcast on every channel. “Faced with a life sentence, Derek Diresta flipped on his oversees counterparts. Phoenix is coordinating with INTERPOL to rip the entire operation out by the roots.”

“Countries worldwide are working to stop the No-Go Challenge,” James adds, reaching for his beer and tipping the longneck at Mac, Riley, and Bozer to let them know that he is including them in what he is about to say. “‘Cause let’s face it; young people don’t need any more encouragement to do stupid things.” 

Mac just barely resists the urge to snort out a laugh at the accuracy of that statement. He thinks back to the conversations that he and Desi had with each other throughout this latest mission. Each one trying to out-do the other with tales of their less-than-safe escapades that each of them has been on. He chuckles silently to himself; if his father only knew about some of the things that he’s done. 

Hell, Mac thinks, if _Jack_ ever knew of the things that he has gotten up to while out of his Overwatch’s vigilant gaze. Then again, his partner managed to track him all the way to Nigeria without ever leaving the city of Los Angeles. He also ‘borrowed’ multiple satellites belonging to various intelligence agencies both foreign and domestic numerous times a day for months to be able to keep an eye on him and ensure Mac’s safety while he was halfway around the globe. So, Mac is certain that his partner already knows about each and every one of his many exploits. 

And if asked about them, Mac is certain that Jack would grumble something about ‘ _skinny-assed nerds who have no sense of self-preservation hell bent on turning me completely grey_.’ Mac smiles softly. He knows the rebuke for what it would be, though; all for show. 

Mostly. 

His partner’s grouching would be less about Jack making it his sole purpose in life to keep him safe at all times and more about feeling like he’s missing out on sharing in the rush of the adventure.   
  
Thoughts of his best friend send the now familiar pang of apprehension straight to his heart, cinching the knot of worry that’s been tangled in his gut ever since the moment Jack first told him that he would be leaving to personally head up the hunt for Kovac, that much tighter. 

Mac curls his hand around the beer that he’s holding. The bottle is cool against his palm, the condensation seeping between his fingers as they clench the glass. He curls his other hand into a tight fist and presses it snug up against the side of his leg.

It’s his version of an improvised restraint. A physical reminder to help him resist the urge to reach into his pocket, pull his phone out, and check for a message from Jack.   
  
_Again_. 

The feeling is overwhelming. Like if he could just stare at the screen long enough, stare at it hard enough, his will alone would make a text message, or an email suddenly appear. 

Or better yet, what Mac wants most is for his phone to _ring_ , a picture of Jack’s wide grin smiling up at him from his cell phone screen notifying him of an incoming video call from his best friend. 

Mac tries very hard to make himself believe the old proverb that he’s been reciting over and over in his head like a mantra for weeks now: no news is good news. He tries to accept as truth that without any information to the contrary, he can assume that all is well. 

That Jack is just fine. 

But Mac knows from too much hard-won experience that isn’t always the truth. 

“— all be proud.” Matty’s voice pulls his attention away from the worry over his partner and back to his kitchen, back to the rest of the team—back to the rest of his family—and the conversation they’ve been having. He feels her eyes on him and he meets her stare head-on, head held high, not contrite or remorseful in the least. Almost daring her to say something or correct him. 

“I know I am,” she continues as she holds his gaze. Her look isn’t the admonishment he is expecting, or even the silent reprimand for so obviously getting lost in his head. 

_Again_. 

Instead, her dark eyes are full of sympathy, expression compassionate, like she knows exactly where all his attention just was and understands not only what he’s been thinking, but what he’s feeling as well. 

And considering that this is Matty, he has no doubt that she does. 

“Not only did all of you save Ben and Isabel and the other kids that had been kidnapped,” Matty tells them, “but you saved untold other young people who would’ve fallen victim to a similar fate in the future; one that would not have a happy ending. So seriously, great job, all of you.” 

“That’s a cause for celebration!” Bozer singsongs brightly as he claps his hands together enthusiastically. 

“I’m still not authorizing a vacation, Wilt, city, island, ocean, or otherwise,” James announces, serious and straight-faced, looking directly at Bozer, silencing the younger man before he can even utter any more words. 

Mac can’t help but laugh at the incredulous look on Bozer’s face over James’ clearly accurate statement. 

Bozer’s mouth falls open and his gaze snaps to Mac’s, pinning him with a look. “Seriously? Where’s the love, dude? What about the bro-code, huh?” He points a stern finger at Mac. “There’ll be no more of my delicious, homemade waffles for you mister if you don’t start showin’ some positivity. Either that or your skinny white ass will stay home and not be invited on our island getaway.”

“You’re right, Boz, I should show you more support.” Mac apologizes, failing in his effort to be serious as one side of his lips curves up into a smile.

“Awww, that’s alright, bro. It’s all good,” his roommate forgives easily, waving his hand at Mac as if he’s physically brushing away the comments and any hard feelings his words may have caused. “Besides, man, bein’ mad at you is like bein’ mad at a little puppy. It just can’t be done.” 

The remark elicits a laugh out of the group; even his father is smiling and laughing. Seeing that only makes Mac’s own grin widen even as he’s shaking his head in exasperation over the comparison. It wasn’t long ago that he thought he would never have this with his dad, and with James’ diagnosis hanging over the both of them, Mac is going to enjoy whatever time they still have. 

Mac doesn’t even bother to defend himself against Bozer’s statement, though. It’s certainly not the first time the comparison has been made between him and a little, furry canine and he’s sure it’s not going to be the last. 

And if Mac’s silence is in large part due to Bozer picking that phrase up from Jack, his partner being the first to liken him to _the small puppies we have on the ranch, attention span of gnat, I tell you. They’d spy even the littlest bit of a squirrel and they’d be off like a shot, all long limbs and shaggy fur try’n to find those furry rodents. Couldn’t stop ‘em for nothing,_ he’d say to Mac with a slow shake of his head and a stern, pointed look every time Mac would scamper off looking for an IED while they were in the Sandbox… 

Well, nobody but Mac has to know that. 

“You seem very sure that you’re going to convince me to change my mind about not only signing off on a vacation for all of you but funding it all as well, Wilt,” James states, and the only word that Mac can come up with for the expression that his father is wearing is amused. 

“Well, sir, confidence is the key to success, after all,” Bozer preaches. As if Mac’s father, Oversight himself, who has been doing this job since before either of them were born, doesn’t already know this, hasn’t already made it a part of himself, his life, and everything that he does. 

“If you don’t believe in yourself then nobody else will,” his roommate continues. “So… If _I_ believe that I can persuade you to revise your verdict on our, well deserved, may I add, holiday, then… So, will you.” 

Bozer says it all like it’s the simplest concept in the world, before he finishes with an exaggerated, theatrical flourish. “And then, _viola_! Sun and sandy beach here we come.” 

“Interesting theory,” James says simply. Mac studies his father, but his face and voice give nothing away as to what he may be thinking or what he’s going to say next as he stares at Bozer. Mac waits with bated breath, realizing that Matty and Riley are doing just the same. 

“One week,” Oversight states. Not his father, the change in voice, the change in demeanor makes it quite obvious that it is their boss giving the conditions. “One week to convince me why I should say yes. We’ll consider it an extension of your training, Agent Bozer, honing your negotiating skills. You succeed, and you and your teammates get your choice—off a list I provide and approve—of destinations for an extended, long weekend… On me.” 

“You’re on!” Bozer’s eyes widen and his face lights up at the challenge that was just set down. 

“You got this, Boz,” Mac encourages his friend. Because, honestly, if there is anyone that can convince his father of anything, Mac thinks, it’s his roommate. 

“Well, while y’all are all playing _Art of the Deal_ over there, I’m going to go ahead and make this celebration a Daily Double,” Riley chimes in as she walks over to the fridge, still talking as she takes out another round of beers and passes them around. “Seein’ as how this is the first mission in a while where we all came back in pretty much the same condition, we all left in and nobody needed any trips to Medical.” 

“Though Angus did try his best to change that,” James adds. The words are a bit strained, a slight catch in the usually steady and calm voice and Mac looks over at his father. Blue eyes meet his and there’s a haunted quality to them, concern and fear in their depths that Mac isn’t used to seeing and still doesn’t quite know what to do with. 

Mac can understand the lingering fear at just how close a call it really had been, though. He himself must take a deep steadying breath against the vertigo that tries to overwhelm him at the memory of his hand slipping off the Tower bar. The sure knowledge that if the 5000-volt wires didn’t kill him outright then the fall to the ground most surely would have, both him and Desi. Because while he’s come to realize just how skilled of an operative she really is, the momentum of his fall would have been too much for her to stop and would have plunged them both to the earth, bodies broken beyond repair as they bounced off the support beams on the way down. 

Despite the emotional confusion that his father still invokes in him, Mac gives James an understanding look. He can only hope he’s conveying the reassurance his father needs to settle his nerves—settle both their nerves—and remind him that it all worked out alright in the end; his last second Hail Mary grab for the insulator discs was successful and he’s here and safe. 

Mac’s had calls closer than this before, much closer. But he knows that it’s not only his physical safety that his father is questioning or is concerned about. 

He and Desi have yet to be tested, really, truly tested. Jack chose her to watch their backs, to keep them all safe. Keep them all alive until he returns. And that’s more than enough for Mac. 

But there is trust and then there is _trust_.

So, is he okay? Unrattled? Is his mind running scenario after scenario of how things would have gone down had it been Jack up in that tower beside him instead?

The answer to all of those and a few other thoughts that he refuses to give light to are a resounding yes. 

He knows that he and Desi will get there, eventually. At least she hasn’t punched him yet, he thinks dryly. That has to count for something. 

But his father—Oversight—certainly does not need to know any of that. 

So, he keeps his father’s gaze, reassuring expression still firmly in place, and gives him the only answer that he needs to hear. “I’m good, dad. Really.” 

“As long as we’re celebrating accomplishments, I’m going to make this party a triple,” Matty remarks with a glance at James. It’s less a look and more of a fleeting, side-eyed glimpse. There and gone. So quick Mac wonders if he just imagines it, questions if he really did see it at all; except Mac was trained by the best so he knows what he saw. He straightens up a bit, head tipped, and brow furrowed in concentration as he observes both of his bosses. 

“They may not be physically here with us at the moment, but that doesn’t mean that they are any less a part of this family. And until the day they _do_ come home,” Matty continues, and the emphasis she places on those last few words steal Mac’s breath as the instant knowledge of who she’s referring to slams into him, “we will celebrate every success, no matter how small, for them.”

“ _Jack_ …” 

Riley’s voice. It’s barely more than a whisper, hushed and so incredibly hopeful. Mac looks over at her and she meets his gaze, her dark eyes bright, and Mac is again reminded that he’s not the only one that’s feeling Jack’s absence. He may be missing his partner, his best friend and brother, but for Riley it’s the man she’s chosen as her father. 

He gives the woman he’s come to think of as a sister a small smile, hopeful himself, because everything that Matty has just said points to it as being positive news. 

“Did Jack catch ‘em? He coming home?” Bozer asks, voice expectant, also having easily deduced the only person that Matty could be talking about. “Not that we don’t like Desi or anything or want to get rid of her, mind you” he adds quickly, back peddling against the clear enthusiasm that was in his voice. “I mean, she’s pretty impressive, all female Jackie Chan super ninja and all. It’s just that she’s… Uhm… Well, she’s, ah—” 

“Not Jack,” Riley finishes for him, blunt and right to the point. 

Mac huffs out a laugh at Riley’s assessment of their new Overwatch. That’s the biggest understatement of the century. Mac doesn’t think he’s ever worked with two Operatives who were more different in their approach to… well, everything, as those two are. 

And maybe that’s a good thing, Mac reasons. Jack left big shoes to fill. His presence and personality, his wisdom, guidance and his big heart are not only a large part of their team, their family, but have been a large influence, a large part of what has made each of them the agents that they are today. Replacing him with a carbon copy would not only prove an impossible feat but would be an insult to everything that makes Jack so special and unfair to the person taking his place. 

“That would be good news, wouldn’t it, Bozer,” Matty answers, and there’s genuine regret in her voice as she continues. “But no, unfortunately Jack has not as of yet captured Kovac.” 

“Dalton has been working on reconnecting with some of his former CI’s that proved useful the last time he was hunting down Kovac. Seeing what they know, what they’ve heard this go around,” James informs them. “Shaking down any of Kovac’s former known associates that are still lurking in the shadows.” 

“And, well, all that shaking has resulted in some pretty rotten apples falling from the trees,” Matty adds, picking up where James left off. “Just days ago, Jack and his team, working from Intel they had gathered from previous OPs, apprehended an HVT that has long been rumored to be one of the money men for not only Kovac, but for other high profile terrorists as well; someone that up until now has not only been too elusive catch, but one that nobody even had a face to go with the name. He’s now currently in the company of the CIA liaison that’s attached to Jack’s task force.”

“Follow the money trail,” Bozer remarks. “Very smart.” 

“Indeed,” Matty agrees, the pride she feels for her former agent and dear friend evident in her voice. 

“And Jack’s hoping that their new guest will lead them right up the food chain,” Riley concurs. “Save his own neck by ratting out his current—or former—boss.” 

“Exactly. There’s a chance it may not pan out for them or there’s the chance it could lead to the break that Jack needs to once and for all put an end to the number one terrorist on just about every country’s watch list. Either way, the capture itself is a huge victory that will no doubt lead to the capture of other high-profile targets. And that is very much worth celebrating.” 

Matty glances at his father again as she finishes speaking, that same side-eyed there and it’s gone look as before, but this time there’s something else in Matty’s eyes and Mac can’t keep quiet. 

“What aren’t you telling us?” Mac asks, looking between both Matty and James. And while his voice isn’t sharp, he makes it clear that he’s not going to back down. 

His father is difficult for him to read on most days, and now is no different as he simply stands there with a nonchalant air of indifference looking unconcerned. Matty though… Matty straightens up a bit, squares her shoulders and looks directly at him. 

“What makes you think we’re keeping something from you?” she asks him.

Not, _we’re not keeping anything from you_ , but _what makes you think we’re keeping something from you_. It’s a marked and important difference between the two statements: one reassuring of all honesty and the other a question of what exactly gave away that they were keeping a secret in the first place. 

“That _we have our story straigh_ t look that the two of you shared…” Mac answers. He gestures between them once again, “Jack and I have shared enough of them over the years that they’re pretty easy to recognize. And also… Also, the look on your face, Matty.” 

“And what look would that be, blondie?” 

“The same look you get on your face when you send us all out on a mission where you know that the probability of one of us getting injured, perhaps seriously, is nearly 100% but having no choice but to send us out anyway—concern, worry… fear,” Mac answers quietly. “So, either there have been other developments that you’re both not sharing with us, or…”

Mac trails off, hesitates. He has to swallow down the lump of emotion that’s suddenly clogging his throat, not wanting to ask the question, fearing the answer, but needing to ask none the less. 

“Or…” Mac continues quietly, holding Matty’s gaze, “Jack has been hurt and you’re not telling us.” 

He hears Riley gasp and Mac glances over at her. He’s grateful beyond words to see that Bozer has moved closer to her, standing shoulder to shoulder, hands grasped tightly together: silent support in the event that the nightmares that Mac knows haunt all their dreams is about to come true. 

Time seems to stand still; Mac doesn’t even think his breaths. Doesn’t even think he can. His lungs seemingly freeze in his chest, heart pounding wildly against his ribs while he waits for Matty or his father—one of them, he doesn’t care—to answer him, to allay his fears or make his deepest nightmare reality. 

“No. Absolutely not. If something were to happen, I would never keep that from any of you.” 

It’s Matty who finally speaks, her voice firm and resolute, and Mac’s lungs release the breath they were holding captive in a shuddery, relieved exhale of air. 

“For the record,” James speaks up and Mac is momentarily startled by his father’s voice. So intent on Matty and the words that she was saying that he’d forgotten he was even in the room. “Part of the deal that we… well, I should say part of deal that _Matty_ brokered when the military brass informed us what they wanted, was that we—Matty and I—are to be kept in the loop on all aspects of the Operation that pertains to Kovac. I know you are still Jack’s Power of Attorney, and I know what Dalton means to you, son,” James says softly, and there’s an understanding to his tone that’s never been there before, “what he means to all of you. But with you out on missions and unreachable on more occasions than not, the two of us decided to make us first contact in case anything is to happen.” 

Mac doesn’t say anything for long moments, needing the time to examine and analyze what has just been said. 

His father’s sudden, not only understanding, but acceptance of the role that Jack plays in his life aside—which is definitely something that Mac will be reexamining more at a later time—everything James said makes perfect sense. He and Matty are reachable 24/7, whereas Mac can never count on where he’ll be or if he will even be in a position where taking a call is something he is safely able to. And that’s not even taking into consideration whether or not he’ll even have a device on him that can still be considered in any way, shape or form a ‘phone’. 

It’s the rest though, as he replays what has been said over again in his head, that has him refocusing on Matty, because while she has answered the spirit of his question, she did not answer the question itself. 

“While I appreciate all of what you both have just told us,” Mac says honestly, gratefully, because he really is. Knowing that Jack has the power and support, the willpower, of the likes of Mathilda Webber and James MacGyver behind him, eases some of the anxiety that has been building and weighing on him for weeks now. 

That doesn’t change the fact, though, that Mac needs answers and will keep pushing until he gets them.

And if he doesn’t… 

Well, then, there’s nothing that Riley Davis can’t find when she puts her mind to it. 

“You never directly answered either of my questions,” Mac states. 

“You’re right.” Matty tips her head in acknowledgement. “Jack is no more injured than he has been on Phoenix missions,” she reassures him. 

Except, she really doesn’t. 

“I have held Jack,” Mac says softly, “praying that Phoenix Emergency Exfil will arrive before he bleeds out in my arms. So that’s probably not the best comparison to use to put us at ease, Matty.”

It’s like Mac’s words give the memories life,give them the power to break free from the prison that he so painstakingly sealed them in years before. 

_Blood everywhere_.

They flash forward in his mind— bright and vivid and _real_ despite the passage of time that separates him from the events. 

_Don’t look at your hands._

Mac squeezes his eyes shut, but Jack just follows him; because real or imagined Jack is always there, always right beside him. 

_Pale and silent and oh so still against a spreading blanket of crimson_. 

Sensation against the thin skin of his wrist snaps his eyes open and despite himself, he looks down. Chest tight, he steels himself for the visage that’s about to greet him. 

His breathe leaves him in a rush, his eyes closing momentarily once again, this time, though, in relief. What greets his gaze is not the deep red of blood— _Jack’s blood_ —sticky and warm as it coats his hands, cuticles stained crimson where it’s seeped beneath his nails. 

Instead, Matty’s small hand lies on top of his smooth, blessedly clear skin. She gently squeezes his hand, the apology plain on her face. 

It was a lifetime ago, before Matty, before Bozer, before Riley, before Nikki. Before Cairo became the bar against which their bad was measured. When Phoenix was DSX and Mac was still trying to find his footing in the complicated and dangerous world of spies and espionage. 

But of course, Matty would know. Matty knows everything. 

“I promise you, all of you,” she says as she looks at each one of them. Her voice is a mix of soft and firm, a unique combination that he’s only ever heard the woman standing in front of him able to achieve. “That even though our connection wasn’t the clearest, he looked—”

“Wait!” Riley interrupts suddenly. “You saw him? Like, were able to see him as you talked? Not just a phone call?” 

Mac, and he figures Bozer also, share Riley’s surprise, and also her disappointment. In the long drawn out weeks since Jack left, there has been only one instance where they have been able to talk via video. Even speaking over the phone has been extremely rare. They have had to rely on snail mail, letters that have been too far and too few between. 

But Mac knows from working so long and so close with Jack, knowing him better than he knows himself, even those letters have been carefully worded. Phrases crafted to give information and updates without actually revealing anything, saying everything while saying nothing at all as only an expert operative can do. 

To miss being able to see his best friend in person, even over the pixilated static of a computer screen, to see and judge for himself Jack’s physical and emotional wellbeing…

Mac will admit that it hurts more than a little bit. 

“Yes,” Matty acknowledges, and he can hear the genuine regret in her voice that they all had missed the opportunity to see him also. “He was able to obtain a secure video line, called in on the private Phoenix number while you were all on the ground in South America. He was hoping that he’d catch you all in the building and be able to see and talk to you guys. 

“How’d he look?” Bozer asks. 

“Yeah, he really doing okay? Riley adds, and even though her voice comes off strong, sounding like she’s simply making a simple inquiry, Mac can see right through it. She may be strong, and smart, able to kick somebody’s ass six ways to Sunday, delete a person’s entire existence with one stroke of a key, but right now, at this moment to Mac she very much sounds like a scared little girl needing assurance that her father is safe. 

“All things considered, yes. Dalton is okay,” James tell them, unusually gentle and understanding. “He’s a bit bruised, has a set of butterflies above his eyebrow, forearm wrapped in a dark bandage… But that’s the extent of the damage.” 

“He looks a little tired, his beard fuller than I remember seeing it in a long while,” Matty adds, “but overall he does look well. Determined, focused.”

The relief Mac feels at the sure knowledge that Jack is indeed okay—and he quickly shuts down the pessimistic voice in his head that whispers, _for now_ —is almost palpable. Like a heavy, weighted blanket has finally been lifted from his shoulders. 

He can’t help but think that there’s something going on, though. Something that neither Matty nor his father is telling them. It’s a nagging feeling, a continuous poke against his subconscious that there is a bigger picture at play, that he’s missing pieces to a puzzle that are somehow very important for him to know and to be aware of.

Mac has always considered himself to have good instincts. He may not call it his _spidey sense_ , but his instincts have always served him well as an EOD, and one of the first things that Jack taught him as an Agent was to trust those feelings, trust his gut, and that’s what he’s going to do now. 

“Jack didn’t just call to say Hi, did he,” Mac states. Because it’s not a question he’s asking at all. 

His father sighs. It’s the littlest exhalation of breath. But Mac notices it, knows from long experience what it is. Frustration, irritation, annoyance. 

With Mac himself, that he is still asking questions, that he is not going to let the matter drop. 

And he’s not. Not where Jack is concerned. Not when it could mean his very life is on the line. 

“Angus—” 

“Dad… No,” Mac interrupts as he takes a couple of steps forward to close the distance between them. “Don’t stand there and deny it. Don’t waste your breath saying that there is nothing else going on other than Jack calling simply to say hello when every one of us standing in this room will know it for the lie that it is.” 

Mac takes a deep a breath in and blows it out slowly, works to relax his body, rein in his emotions. Not only is being combatant with his father not what he wants to do, but he knows starting a fight and putting the older man on the defensive isn’t going to get him the answers that he needs. 

Mac lowers his voice, makes sure it’s calm, reasonable before he continues. “If what you both discussed with Jack is classified, relates to Intel that is above our pay grade, then I will accept a non-answer.” The, _for now_ and _I won’t like it_ not needing to be said to be heard loud and clear in his kitchen where they’re all still gathered. 

“But if you are keeping silent, keeping secrets as a way of protecting us all,” he says pointedly, looking at both Matty and his father in turn, “then the concern is not only misplaced, but unneeded and unwanted as well.” 

“Yeah… All of what my man just said,’ Bozer puts in. “I mean, Jack may refer to us all as kid in that fond, endearing way of his—which, gotta say, is hella sappy for a big, badass Delta like himself. But then that’s our big guy, isn’t? Emotions and heart as big as the land he hails from.” 

“But we’re really not kids. Despite having a PhD in Overprotective Mother-henning, Jack does know that, and so do the both of you,” Riley picks up where Bozer had left off. “Listen… Matty, James… If you’re both trying to keep us all from worrying, you have to know that ship has already sailed the instant that Jack told us what he was going to do and then walked out that War Room door leaving us all behind. I doubt very much that anything you tell us can be nearly as bad as any of the scenarios that have been running through all of our heads this entire time.” 

“We don’t need protection. What we need are answers,” Mac finishes up. 

“They do make a good case, don’t they?” James asks Matty. 

“Yes, they do,” Matty easily agrees. “But then we both know just how smart and capable they all are.” 

Matty sighs, a decision clearly made as she nods her head. Mac finds it highly amusing that despite his father being Oversight, the person in overall charge of the entirety of a secret government organization and all of their bosses—Matty included—that it’s most often than not Matty herself that is the one that has the final say in decisions that are being made. Not that Mac is going to say any of that out loud. 

“Alright, if we’re going to do this we might as well sit and get comfortable,” she instructs them as she turns and heads out onto the deck, beckoning with her finger for them all to follow her. 

Dusk has turned into night since they all arrived at Mac’s house and the LA skyline stretches out beyond the deck railing, city lights twinkling like a million tiny stars. Mac quickly and easily lights the fire pit as they all take a seat. 

“You’re absolutely right,” Matty begins as she settles on the bench and all eyes turn towards her as she speaks. “Jack didn’t specifically call to say hello, although getting to see all of you was an added bonus that he was just as disappointed to have missed. After _Agent Dalton_ was formally released from the employ of the Phoenix, _Master Sergeant Dalton_ officially requested the Foundation’s assistance.”

“Hold on a minute,” Mac interrupts, glancing over quickly at both Riley and Bozer to see them just as surprised as he is by this news. “All this time… we’ve been assisting Jack?”

“Yeah, Matty… C’mon,” Riley implored, “why didn’t we know this already? We could’ve been helping out this entire time.”

“Technically you already were,” she tells them. “Besides, there was nothing else you could have been doing that wasn’t already being done. There still isn’t.” 

“Way to be cryptic,” Bozer says dryly. “And technically? What exactly does technically mean, Matty?” 

“If you’d all stop interrupting me, I will tell you.” 

“What Matty is trying to inform all of you is that Dalton requested that Phoenix look into all those text messages that he received on his private number that kicked this entire hunt off. Let our lab boys lose to work their magic and see what they turn up.” 

“Let me take a wild guess and say that our techs found bupkis. That each one of those messages were sent from a different burner phone, each one using some sort of anonymizing technology to further ensure they’d stay hidden. Which garnered you not even the slightest hint of even a country where Jack can start searching,” Riley speculates. Though everyone sitting there knows it for the truth it is. Riley is a top-notch analyst, the best of the best that any of them have ever worked with. Better than Nicki was by a long shot. She is the one that wrote the programs that the technicians would be using in their search for answers, and if they came up with none, then no answers are to be found. It’s a total dead end. 

“Got it in one,” Matty quips, but there’s no humor at all behind her words. “Our technicians hit a brick wall at every turn. So, after some brainstorming, we decided to try a different angle. Instead of trying to trace the origins of the messages, I had them analyzing the images themselves. Taking them apart pixel by pixel if need be. Cleaning up the background, sharpening all those small details in the picture that you might miss.”

“Details that you miss because all of your focus is on Kovac,” Mac says. “Who’s not only _not dead_ but takes up almost all of the image.” 

“Correct,” James responds. “We had the technicians then reconstruct the images and run any detail, no matter how minute, that was in the background against every single image in our databases.”   
  
Bozer whistles. “Wow. So, Jack was calling to see how that was going? To get any leads we had for him. Because that’s quite the extensive card catalogue to search through, techs must’ve found something.” 

“Actually...” Matty drags the word out just a little bit, hesitates as she looks at each of them before speaking again. “He was calling to let us know that we could stop our searches, to inform us that he discovered who is behind all of the text messages he’d received.” 

"That's awesome!" Bozer exclaims. 

A smile lights up Riley's face. "Yeah... Matty, that's great news! Now Jack and his team can go after them, get some answers and some actionable intel that'll end this hunt once and for all and bring Jack back home where he belongs."

"As it turns out, Jack has already been searching for him this entire time." 

Something in the way Matty says those words, voice tight and cautious, the hard set of her jaw and the blaze of protective anger in her eyes has the fine hairs on Mac's arms and on the back of his neck standing on end. Brings every single one of his own protective instincts screaming online.

And suddenly that nagging feeling that’s been hounding him solidifies into clarity. Every one of those missing puzzle pieces that he has been searching for slam into place and Mac’s blood turns to ice at the picture that they make, and his eyes snap over to Matty. 

“ _Kovac_.” His voice is a low growl and Mac himself almost doesn’t recognize it. Mac is furious with himself at how he could have ever missed that, how he didn’t figure it all out sooner. 

Because it could have only been him that sent those messages to Jack. 

His father nods his head. “Yes. Jack said that big ole brain of yours would put it all together pretty quick, if you hadn’t done so already.” 

“Wait… Wait a minute,” Bozer interrupts, sitting forward in the deck chair and waving his hands back and forth. “Hold your horses, stop the train, and any other idiom you want to add and back up this whole kit and caboodle, all right? What are y’all talking about? _Of course_ , Jack was already searching for Kovac’s. That’s his mission, why he was recalled—”

“Yeah… Mac…?” Riley asks, placing her small hand on his arm as she looks at him questioningly. “What’s going on? What are we missing here?”

“Kovac was the one that sent all those text messages to Jack.” His voice is no less the growl it just was, the words angry and bitten off but his tone is sure, confident as Mac answers Riley’s inquiry.

“What? No, that… That doesn’t even make any sense, Mac,” Bozer states again. 

“It’s true, Riley,” Matty confirms softly. “On the last mission that Jack and his men were on, after they had breached the compound and secured their target, they ripped the entire place apart, left no stone unturned in their search for any intel that would be of value to them. Right in the main foyer, sitting all by itself on a table in the middle of the room where it could not possibly be missed was a wooden box, ornately carved with ancient warriors locked in battle.”

“Matty…” Mac’s voice is barely a whisper now. Dread claws it way up his spine. Kovac is a master terrorist, his kills numbering in the thousands, and if ever there was a trap waiting to be sprung, that was it. It might as well have a neon sign hanging over the top of it. Big, bold letters flashing the word _trap_ with a flashing arrow pointed down at the box. His mind races, already calculating where wires would have been placed. Mac mentally runs down the list of the types of explosives that Kovac likes to use—and there are many, always changing his devices up from what Mac has been able to find out—that the box might be packed with and the explosive radius and potential blast injury of each one. 

Matty calling his name grabs his attention, and from the look on her face, it's not the first time that she has said it. 

“Mac,” she says again, “Jack spent seven and half years watching your back. More important, he spent seven and half years watching _you_. Do you really think that he didn’t pick up some things from you? That you didn’t teach him just as much as he’s taught you over the years?” 

No, Mac doesn’t think that at all. Even before Mac considered them friends, before he knew exactly what Jack’s background was, Mac knew that Jack was much more than just the simple knuckle dragger that Mac had accused him of being. 

Jack is always watching, always observing, always aware of and taking in his surroundings. Cataloging everything; even when he’s joking around and seemingly unaware, he’s paying attention and can tell you everything that was going on.

“The very first thing he said he did was have his explosives expert check, and double check, for tripwires of any kind, and it came back clean.” 

“Well, ah…that’s good. That’s real good,” Bozer says around an audible swallow. “But I’m gonna say that whatever they found inside that ole box had Jack wishing that it had been some c4 they’d found instead.” 

“Matty?” Mac waits with bated breath for her to answer, for her to tell them exactly what kind of present the psychotic bomber left for his big reveal to Jack. 

“Inside the box was single photograph,” Matty tells them. 

“Of?” It’s a question that Mac doesn’t need to ask because deep down he already knows the answer, but the words slip out of his mouth anyway. 

“Jack.” Her voice is even, all business matter of fact that Mac has heard hundreds of times when she’s stood in front of them in the War Room. But he also knows her well enough, has gotten close enough to her these last few years to also notice the catch in her voice, hear the warble of emotion in her tone that she’s trying—for their benefit, no doubt—to hide as she says her next words. “The entirety of his image covered by a big, black check mark.” 

“Oh, god…” Riley’s hands fly to her mouth in open shock. Her voice holding all the horror that Mac is also feeling. 

Jack’s name hangs heavy. The air around them is lit with a buzz which Mac thinks must be audible, supercharged as realization dawns, and Mac’s blood turns to ice in his veins. 

“On the back of the picture,” Matty continues slowly, because _of course_ she’s not done— _He’s not done_ , “in script that has been verified by forensic document examiners as being authentic, was a handwritten message, personalized to Jack by Kovac himself.”

Mac balls both hands into fists, clenches them so tightly that he can feel the pull of his skin against his knuckles, feel the bite of his nails as they dig into the tender flesh of his palms. But they are nothing compared to the shudders of concern, of anger, of fear that quake through him for his best friend’s safety. 

“What did it say, Matty,” Mac forces himself to ask. “What was Kovac’s message for Jack.” 

Matty takes a deep breath before she answers him and Mac knows, without a single, solitary doubt, that he is going to hate what she has to say, that he is going to hate this entire situation, hate Kovac even more than he already does. 

“The hunter is now the prey.” 

Silence reigns for what seems like an eternity, punctuated only by harsh breathes as they all take in the news that was just dropped on them. It’s finally broken by Riley’s voice, stunned and full of disbelief.   
  
“That doesn’t…” She shakes her head, long curls falling from her messy bun to frame her face. “Why would Kovac do that? None of that makes any sense. He’s been totally off everyone’s radar for well over a decade, totally invisible.”

“He could’ve continued blowin’ things up to his heart’s content without anyone knowin’,” Bozer adds, sounding just as confused. “Why call Jack out like that when Jack was the one to almost kill him in the first place?” 

“That’s exactly why, Wilt,’ James explains. “Revenge, pride, power. Take your pick. One or all, it’s all the same. Kovac was feared around the globe, untouchable—”

“Until Jack,” Mac says quietly. 

“Until Jack,” his father repeats, confirms needlessly, with a nod of his head. “Dalton is the only one to have successfully tracked Kovac. The only one to not only get close to him, but he’s the one that fired the kill shots. And they _were_ kill shots, I’ve watched the unredacted BWC footage and Dalton didn’t miss. We still don’t know how it is he survived… Jack and his men very nearly didn’t.

“And that’s not something that a man like Tiberius Kovac is going to forget… Or let go. So, he bided his time, planned, waited patiently, and then laid the bait.” 

“As much as Jack got to know what made Kovac tick the last time he was hunting for him,” Matty further explains, “Kovac also got to know and understand Jack. Sending pictures of himself to Jack? Current, still alive, walking free? Kovac counted on Jack’s sense of right and responsibility to protect the innocent, his deep sense of duty to his country and to a job unfinished to lure him out into the open, pull him back into searching for him once again whether he was assigned to the new task force or not.”

“And then the hunter becomes the prey,” Riley whispers the taunt Kovac had left for Jack. 

That was it. That was the breaking point. He’d heard enough. 

Mac shoots to his feet, long legs carrying him halfway across the deck before it even registers in his mind that he was moving. 

“Angus! Where do you think you’re going?”

“Where I should’ve gone in the first damn place,” Mac bites out, not stopping his strides as he heads towards the stairs and his front door and Jack. 

“You don’t even know where he is. He’s gone under the radar. How do you even expect to find him?”

Mac spins to face his father at that, eyes blazing as he crosses back over the deck. He stops mere inches from him, toe-to-toe, pulled up to his full height, hands fisted at his sides, shoulders square, and jaw set.

“You really think that I can’t find him?” Mac grounds out lowly. “It took me less than 24 hours to locate him after he’d been off the grid for over 2 weeks in Belarus. You really think I can’t locate him now? Jack and I _always_ have each’s back’s… _Always_ come for each other. And now’s not going to be any different. I’m not going to let him play cat and mouse with a mad man alone.” 

“He’s not alone, Angus. He has his team with him.” 

Ignoring his father’s words Mac spins back around and heads back across the deck. It doesn’t matter who these men are or how good they were, he and Jack are a team; _you go kaboom, I go kaboom,_ Mac will never forgive himself if something happens to Jack that he could have prevented. 

“Mac… MacGyver…” 

“You can’t stop me, Matty,” Mac responds, not stopping or slowing down as he heads back towards the stairs. 

“You’re absolutely right,” she returns, “I can’t stop you. But before you go, you should know everything.” 

That stops him, sudden and immediate, her words like a physical blow that momentarily leave him stunned and unable to process what exactly she’s just said. 

“Everything?” Mac repeats slowly. He turns back around, eyes hard as he pins her with a look, because he is _done_ with these games. “What do you mean, everything? What else don’t we know? What else have the both of you been keeping from us?” 

“Mathilda…” His father voice holds a note of warning, his gaze never wavering from Mac’s even as he continues speaking with Matty. “Do you think that’s wise?” 

“I don’t think any of this is wise, Jim,” Matty returns, and it’s obvious to Mac that she’s not just talking about whatever it is that Mac still doesn’t know, and on that they both agree. “But we both know that neither of us will be able to stop or contain Mac if he is set on leaving. And I know that the latter has been tried—with unsuccessful results—in the past. So, I think what is wise, is that we tell him everything so that he can make an informed decision as to what is the best course of action for him to take.” 

James nods his head in obvious acquiesce and Matty turns her attention back towards him. “Mac… please sit back down.” She holds her hand up to stop the questions that want to tumble out and motions back towards the bench that surrounds the fire pit. “I promise you; I will tell you everything, and if after you hear it all you still want to leave, then neither I nor your father will stop you. Just, please sit down, you’re going to give me a stiff neck having to look up at you this much.” 

Mac smiles despite himself at that and nods his head, crossing back across the deck and sitting. He shares a look with both Riley and Bozer, silent observers during the events of the last few minutes, the looks on their faces just as eager and curious as the one he guesses he himself is wearing. 

Matty opens her mouth to speak and then just as quickly closes it, at a rare loss for words and Mac takes pity on her. 

“Just… out with it, Matty. Tell us.”

“Like a band-aid, right?” she quips with a small smile and Mac finds himself smiling back at one of Jack’s favorite sayings. Whether it be injures or information, Jack feels the same way; no games, straight to the point. Beating around the bush or trying to ease into the bad news only makes it worse and just delays the inevitable. Better to rip it right off. Sure, it’s going to hurt, but it’s over and done with and can be dealt with instead of dragging the pain out. 

“Okay, Mac…,” Matty hesitates, it a barely noticeable delay, but Mac catches it and braces for whatever her next words are going to be. “Your name was at the top of the list of candidates for the task force assembled to hunt down Kovac, and Jack said no. He took your name off the list, out of consideration and told everyone involved that you were not to be a part of it. Any of it.”

He thought he could prepare himself. Thought that’d he be ready, able to brush off her words or have an immediate counter argument, but this… Mac feels like he’s been punched in the gut, leaving him breathless and floundering and stunned. 

He tries to swallow down the storm of emotions that are clawing at his insides, but his throat is so tight that he feels like he’s going to choke. 

_Why_? Why would Jack do that? 

The answer hits him like a ton of bricks and Mac squeezes his eyes shut. He feels sick to his stomach at the realization. He has no one to blame but himself. He knew he had hurt Jack. But he had thought they were repairing the rift that had opened between them. Apparently, he hadn’t realized the depth, hadn’t realized just how bad the damage was that he had caused. 

Running… not once, but twice. Disappearing for months without a word, without so much as an I’m fine sent back home, purposefully ignoring all of Jack’s messages. Losing his best friend, his brother is the least he deserves for his actions. 

“Hey,” Matty’s soft voice pulls him from his spiraling thoughts. Her small hand is resting on his cheek, and he leans into it, not caring who is watching as he allows himself this small brief comfort. “It’s not what you’re thinking, I promise you. It has absolutely nothing to do with Nigeria. Jack agonized over this decision, wanting nothing more than you by his side, hoping you’d understand, someday forgive him for the decision he had to make…forgive him for leaving you.” 

“Matty…” Mac releases a deep breath and drops his head into his hands, scrubbing his fingers back through the long strands of his hair before looking back up at her. “Why then? Kovac is a terrorist, a master bomb maker. That’s what I’m trained to do. What I’m good at. What Jack has spent the last seven and half years watching me do. Why wouldn’t he want me with him?”  
  
“You mentioned Belarus,” Matty says and all Mac can do is give a simple yes with a nod of his head because he doesn’t understand how that has to do with anything that is happening now.

“Why did you go there?” 

Now Mac is even more dumbfounded than he already is, and he tips his head and just looks at her for a moment. “What kind of question is that? Because he needed help, Matty. You know that. Because he was in trouble.” 

“But why, Mac?” she asks again. “Why did he break into that military installation, risk spending the rest of his life in a Siberian gulag, or worse, being put to death? Why did he risk being branded a traitor to the very country he’s fought his entire life to defend? Why did he agree to work with Mareks, a vicious dictator he fought to dispose?”   
  
Mac opens his mouth to answer, but Riley beats him to it. “To protect Mac. To keep him safe.” 

“Are you saying that Mac is in danger, Matty?” Bozer demands, his voice rising. Mac watches his best friend’s posture straighten, his eyes rapidly scanning around the deck, no doubt looking for any sort of danger that may be lurking. 

“Not in the way you may think, or maybe not at all, but Jack…”

“But Jack what, Matty?” Riley prompts. 

“Jack suspected something, didn’t he? Before he even left.” It’s not a question, not really, but neither is it a statement. It’s more Mac working a problem the same way he would when he and Jack are out in the field. Except instead of having Jack right beside him brainstorming, kicking ideas back and forth, Jack _is_ the problem. 

And if there is one person who knows Jack best… Knows how he thinks and what his motivations are for his actions it’s Mac. 

“He suspected all along that is was Kovac himself that sent all of those text messages,” Mac states, voice firm in his assumption as he looks for confirmation from either Matty or his father. 

“Got it in one,” his father says. “Dalton said you’d figure it out quick.” 

Matty nods her head. “He did. Kovac sending the messages himself was the only thing that made sense to him—that made sense to us as well, as a matter of fact,” she says, pointing between herself and James. “If it had been the CIA, anyone in the Five Eyes, hell, anyone in the Intelligence community period that had found out he was alive, they would have gone through proper channels and Jack would have gotten an official summons. Even if it had been one of Jack’s contacts that he still has, and he's been in this game long enough that he has quite a few—from people in the highest of political and government positions to people so far off the radar that they don’t even remember their own names—”

“They would have contacted Jack directly, instead of playing guessing games,” Mac finishes. “I’m sure that he has the same sort of _Jungle Book_ protocol set-up with all his contacts like he still has with his old Delta Unit.”

“Exactly,” Matty agrees. 

“But that still doesn’t explain why Jack wouldn’t want Mac with him,” Riley questions. “If that is actually the case and Kovac is personally gunning for him, I would think that would be even more of a reason for Mac to be with him.” 

Matty hums in agreement. “He did… He does. But Jack’s _spidey senses_ , from the very first moment that our techs positively identified that it was Kovac in those images that were sent to him, weren’t just tingling with danger, they were screaming at him that this was personal.” 

“Which was proved accurate by the picture Dalton found of himself inside that box. The image was recent… date stamped for the day that he deployed, showing him getting on the transport at the airfield,” James tells them. 

“Dammit.” A heavy sigh falls from Mac’s mouth and he shakes his head. This just keeps getting better and better. 

“But… Wait…” Bozer interjects. “Wait… I still don’t get it. If it’s personal, like Riley said, wouldn’t Jack want Mac with him? I mean, they’re the Dynamic Duo for cryin’ out loud. They’re like Riggs and Murtaugh… Butch and Sundance… Woody and Buzz… 

“Wait… Woody and Buzz? Seriously, Bozer?” Matty asks incredulous. 

“Oh, c’mon, you don’t see the resemblance?” Bozer says, just as incredulous, hand waving in Mac’s general direction. “Besides, don’t you all go tellin’ me you don’t remember how much Jack loved Toy Story”. 

Mac chuckles because he does remember the night of that movie marathon. All of them lying around Mac’s living room, de-stressing and relaxing after a long, high-stakes mission. Mac laughing more at just how much his grown partner was enjoying himself watching the children’s film than at what was happening on the screen. 

“Yes, they are quite the team, Wilt,” James says, totally ignoring Bozer’s inquiry about animated film partners. There’s pride in his father’s voice as he says the words and it throws Mac off kilter just a bit. Gives him pause and yet another question, another puzzle to add to the growing list that Mac has.

“But like Matty said,” James goes on, “in the 10 years that Jack was chasing him, they learned a lot about each other. Kovac no doubt knows how fiercely protective Jack is of the people he cares about, sees it as a weakness, sees it as something he can exploit… Sees it as something he can use to his full advantage to make Jack suffer.” 

“But, again—” Bozer starts, only to have Matty cut him off. 

“Jack’s afraid— _terrified_ —that if Mac is with him, is a part of his Task Force, that Kovac will see him with Mac, see them together. Will see how close they are. Will see how much Jack cares—”

“And take him,” Riley finishes. “He’ll kidnap Mac and use him against Jack.”

“Or worse… Yes,” Matty says gravely. “Why do you think that Jack hardly contacts us electronically? That he has been sending letters instead, all of them with multiple post marks routed through multiple countries?” 

“He’s been keeping his distance,” Riley concludes, “from Phoenix, from all of us. 

“Yes,” Matty confirms. “And Deacon, Thorpe… They may both live in Cali, but you don’t think it’s just coincidence that they’ve been _just in the neighborhood_ as many times as they have been since Jack’s been gone and dropped by for a visit, do you?” 

“Jack tasked his old Delta Unit with keeping an eye on us,” Riley says incredulous, shaking her head. “So very, Jack. I’m sure that the rest of _Dalton’s Hero’s_ are keeping tabs covertly as well.” 

“I have no doubt that they are,” James says. 

_I’m just gonna have to leave you behind on this one_. 

The memory flashes in Mac’s mind, Jack’s words just as visceral, just as raw and powerful as the day he’d said them three years ago. 

“ _I can’t do my thing if I’m worried about losing you every minute_ ,” Mac whispers the words, whispers the plea that Jack had made to him in the War Room that afternoon. 

“What’s that, Mac?” Matty asks. 

Mac looks up at Matty, feels like he has to physically pull his mind out the past so he can focus on answering her question. He rests his elbows on his legs, hands clasped tight together as they dangle between his knees as he starts to explain. 

“The first time we met Murdoc, or well, Suspect 218 as we knew him them,” Mac corrects himself, “he—" 

“He was here to collect on the bounty that The Collective had put on all of your heads,” Matty finishes for him. “Yes, I know, I read the reports. I made it a point to study up on Captain Crazypants.” 

Mac chuckles at the nickname that she no doubt picked up from Jack before he continues. “Only we didn’t know that the hit was on all of us until later, at first we believed it was only on—"

“You. And you were going to go after him… Alone,” Matty states with a pointed look at him. Mac almost smiles, settles instead for just shrugging one shoulder, because her assessment is correct. Known not by any report that the information would have been in, but by her personal knowledge of how his mind works. 

“Yes. I was,” Mac answers unabashed. 

“Until Dalton talked you out of it,” James says. “Though I thought that the two of you were going to come to blows before he finally got you to stand down.” 

Mac pushes the realization that his father had been watching him, watching the entire exchange that occurred between him and Jack that day—because of course he was. He was always watching. But Mac has better, more important things to put his energy into at the moment. 

“Jack and I may disagree, may exchange heated words from time to time, but he and I haven’t come to actual blows since the first day we met,” Mac defends with the huff of a laugh. “But that’s a story for another time,” he adds quickly, taking in Matty’s raised eyebrow and Bozer and Riley’s stunned, curious expressions. Cutting them all off before any of them can speak and ask for details. 

“Jack said—What finally got to me to stay behind…” Mac swallows thickly, the emotions clogging his throat making it almost impossible to do so. He blows out a breath, the air shuddering out of him on a shaky exhale.

“Jack said that he couldn’t do his job if he was worried about me every minute,” Mac confesses softly, his heart clenching now the same as it did then. “He said that sometimes—sometimes the best way for him to watch my back is for my back to be somewhere else. That the last thing he needed…” Mac’s voice breaks, his words hoarse as he continues. “The last thing he needed was my death on his conscious… Said that would kill him.”

He looks at Matty, eyes wet and burning. He blinks a couple of times to try and clear his vision. 

“But I understand why he did what he did, and I don’t blame him, or—or am I angry with him. Hell, I probably—No, I would have done the exact same thing if I had been in his position.” 

He sighs, shaking his head in utter frustration, hating the feeling of his hands being tied like this, of not being able to help where he knows that he can. Of having to sit on the sidelines. But he knows that’s what he has to do right now. 

More importantly he knows without a doubt that is what Jack needs him to do.

“I will stand down,” Mac tells them all. But the old adage about how hard doing the right thing is sometimes is true; as much as Mac knows this is what he has to, he hates it down to the very marrow of his bones. Not joining the game is one of the hardest things he thinks he’s ever had to do. 

“Jack needs to concentrate; he needs all of his focus to be on point. His energy and his attention lasered focused on getting a step ahead of Kovac, on not only finding him but stopping him as well. On keeping his men… and himself in one piece and alive. And if me being there will cause, even for a fraction of an instant, his attention to slip….” 

Mac stops himself, not allowing himself to finish that sentence. Not allowing himself to even think of that scenario lest the Fates hear him, and it becomes reality. 

“But what the self-sacrificing, dumbass doesn’t understand is that it goes both ways. My life is no more important than his. That his death would— _will_ —do the exact same thing to me. So I will stay put… _for now_. But I will only sit on the sidelines for so long,” Mac vows. 

“Self-sacrificing, dumbass… Hmmm… I don’t know any more of those, now do I?” Matty quips, eyes kind, mouth quirked in a mischievous half smirk as she nudges Mac’s arm. 

“Don’t know what you could possibly be talking about,” Mac quips back, grateful for her understanding and attempts at easing his anxiety and lightening the mood. 

“And you won’t sit on the sidelines, Mac,” Matty says seriously, “I promise you, none of you will. Like I said, Jack may not be physically here, but he is still very much a part of this family, and family does not forget or abandon each other.” 

“Matty and I are monitoring the situation,” James tells them all. “Dalton knows that he has an open door to the Phoenix any time he needs it, for anything he may need.” 

“He also said that his men are a great bunch of guys, not as awesome as all of you, of course,” she agrees with a smile. “But they do, and I quote, “ _listen better than Carl’s Jr. ever did.”_  
  
Mac huffs out a laugh at that. What had started out as a jab, an insult hurled to hurt and offend is now fond, affectionate and caring, a testament to what they once were and how far they’ve come. 

“ _Carl’s Jr_? Oh, now there is definitely a story behind that nickname that needs to be told!” Bozer exclaims. 

“Yeah, and you can add an explanation for, _he and I haven’t come to actual blows since the first day we met_ while we’re at it,” Riley says. “You gonna tell me it wasn’t love at first sight with you two?”

Mac shakes his head, and laughs. “No. Absolutely not love at first sight. Far from it, in fact.”

“Well, then,” Matty addresses them, “Bozer, slap some of those famous burgers of yours on the grill and we’ll all settle in for the _Mac and Jack Story Hour_ , sans Jack, but he will be here very much in spirit. And when he’s back with us, well, it’ll be interesting to hear how he tells the story of the first time he and Mac met.” 

Mac can’t help but laugh again at Matty’s statement as he gets up to turn on the grill that he has, once again, improved on. Mac is sure that Jack’s tale of their first meeting will be long-winded, fantastical, and most likely outlandish. 

And Mac can’t wait to hear every single word of it as he tells it. 

Bozer comes back out with the burgers, Riley following behind with the condiments and some chips as well as another round of cold beers for all of them. Mac counts six bottles in her hands, and he tips his head momentarily confused as to the extra. Until he watches as she walks by the Adirondack chair that is always Jack’s when they’re all here. She sits down on the deck in front it, back against the front like she always does and then places the extra bottle of beer near the left leg of the chair.

Right where Jack always puts his. 

He catches her eye as he sits down in one of the other chairs and smiles, soft and understanding. His own fridge, as well as Jack’s—from each time he has gone over to Jack’s apartment, just to check on things, is the lie he tells himself—is full of assorted beer he’s bought to share with his friend. The table in his bedroom piled high with books, magazines, even a Die Hard board game he found that he knew Jack just needed to have, all being kept safe until he returns to claim them. 

Mac settles in, lets the memories wash over him as he begins to tell his family about those first 64 tumultuous days. Of arguments and pushing boundaries, of learning to trust, and the true meaning of brotherhood. 

Mac will keep telling their tales, sharing their adventures until Jack comes back and reclaims his role as storyteller. 

And he will, Mac is going to make sure of that. 

“Well I walked into the tent I was assigned to, and I saw this rifle lying on one of the bunks. I noticed that the bolt carrier on it was loose.”

“You didn’t, son.” 

Mac smiles. “Ohhhh… I did. Then I feel this vice-like grip on the back of my neck that lifts me up, a solid right hook to my jaw spins me around, face to face with one very pissed off Jack Wyatt Dalton. He fists both hands in the tee I was wearing and slams me… ” 


End file.
